


On the Town

by Joyce (Alysswolf)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, X-Files Lyric Wheel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alysswolf/pseuds/Joyce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully do Los Angeles after Hollywood AD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Town

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an X-File lyric challenge using the lyrics to "Downtown" by Tony Hatch. Lyrics can be found at the end.

Los Angeles

 

"How are we going to be remembered?" Mulder asked disconsolately as he dug another handful of popcorn out of the plastic Lazarus bowl.

"Hopefully the movie will tank," Scully offered in a somewhat doubtful tone. Mulder knew she was trying to be reassuring, but like him, she shared the awful premonition that the movie would, instead, be a box office smash. It wasn't so much that the movie distorted every aspect of their lives, it was that the actor playing him was so fucking short. He wondered what drugs casting directors were on. He was being played by a short, balding, plump actor. Hollywood was a land of fantasy, but in his opinion this was carrying artistic license too far.

Mulder grunted a reply and mournfully munched more popcorn. Even the Lazarus bowl was a cheap plastic copy. He began to wonder if anything was real any longer.

"Mulder, we're alive and we're relatively young," Scully began with a smile he could hear in her voice. He tried to remember just how long it had been since they had both laughed for the sheer pleasure of laughing. He smiled in spite of his glum realization that the fantasy version of their lives would probably be remembered long after they were forgotten.

A strange sound started him. Was that a giggle he heard coming from Scully? Turning slightly to face her, he saw her grin with a mischievous glint in her eyes that suggested that a wise man would start running now. 

"Skinner was so tickled by the movie, he's given us a Bureau credit card to use for the evening," Scully said with smug satisfaction that would have made the Bureau accountants cringe. The idea of being in Los Angeles with carte blanche approval for a night on the town from A. D. Skinner spawned an answering grin from him.

Scully's laughter broke through the gloom and suggested all sorts of interesting possibilities. He got up, formally extended her a hand, and assisted her to her feet. He felt young again, as if the years of conspiracies, lies, and dead-ends were merely inconvenient hazards on their journey. 

"Let's go, Mulder. I want to see the neon lights, hear the music, and kick up my heels for a change. We're getting stodgy. Let's see just how much we can add to the national debt, why don't we?" Scully suggested with a laugh and a tug on his hand. Mulder followed, matching his pace to hers. He placed his hand on the small of her back and let the familiar connection ease the strain of the past few months. 

"Mulder, I have something to confess."

"What?" Mulder asked cautiously. It had been years, but he recognized the impish mischief in Scully's voice. Maybe Hollywood was a land of magic and make-believe, but if it brought them past the tension of conflicting personal agendas that had plagued them over the last year, he was willing to believe.

"I'm in love with Associate Producer Walter Skinner," she said with a gay, lighthearted laugh.

With a chuckle, Mulder decided to play along. "Me, too," he said in mock seriousness.

Laughing in unison, they exited stage right and headed for the bright lights of Tinsel Town.

 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Six hours later  
Magevney's Pub

 

Mulder watched Scully negotiate her way past tables of intoxicated men and hoped he wouldn't have to rise to defend her honor. It wasn't that he wasn't willing, he just wasn't sure he could stand up at this point. He was full of beer and cheese fries and the pleasant feeling that came from spending a rambling night on the town with his friend and partner. Scully was showing a side of her that he'd always suspected existed, but had never seen before. Apparently, she had an infinite capacity for alcohol, food, and fun. 

Early on in the evening, they had decided to trade off on who decided what they did. Mulder graciously gave Scully first choice and, to his dismay, found himself in a Caribbean nightclub dancing to the gentle rhythm of a bossa nova and drinking rum punch. Scully laughed at his attempts to deny any ability at dancing and pulled him onto the floor. After an initial awkward moment and the infusion of a second rum punch, Mulder began to relax and enjoy moving his body in sync with the seductive rhythm of the music. He'd never considered the possibility that Scully liked Latin music, but watching her lose herself in the music and the moves, he decided that it suited her.

After an hour, Scully indicated that it was his turn to choose, and he impulsively guided her to a jazz nightclub. He'd picked up a love for jazz on an assignment in New Orleans years before he opened the X-Files. To his surprise, Scully's next pick was an ice-cream parlor. Mulder wasn't even sure he could remember the last time he'd had a real ice-cream soda. Scully was giggling like a schoolgirl as she threw caution to the winds and ordered a banana split. There was a sultry undertone that made it clear she was well aware of the effect she was having on him. He had seen the steamy look in her eyes as he danced the bossa nova earlier. It was nice to indulge in admitting their mutual attraction, knowing that for this one night, the rules were suspended. Tomorrow they could go back to pretending that the sexual tension he felt was just a part of their deep and abiding friendship. 

Magevney's Pub had been his idea -- something along the lines of mixing some solid food with the alcohol they had been consuming. He'd picked the place at random without realizing that they had stumbled into a real Irish pub. The atmosphere hit Scully like a welcoming bear hug. Much to his chagrin, Scully beat him at darts the first time. Scully kept unfolding and he found himself wishing the night would never end. He doubted if they'd ever get together for Guinness and darts once they returned to D. C. Somehow, for this one magical night, they had shed their official personas and were simply two close friends having fun. Mulder tried to squelch the feeling of regret. At least they had this night to remember and perhaps they'd find a way to make it happen again.

"Come on, Mulder, my turn to choose. Let's get some air," Scully insisted when she reached their booth. Her glittering smile implied she wasn't ready to call it quits for the evening. Mulder gathered up the stray strands of his stamina and laughed his agreement. He wasn't going to let a five-foot, two inch partner out-last him, but he made a mental note to start working out more.

Laughing, Scully pulled him towards the exit, waving at the crowd as they left. Still holding hands, they walked down the sidewalk letting the hustle and bustle of the crowds, the neon lights, and the sound of cars passing by lull them into a comfortable, companionable silence. So much of their relationship was unspoken, Mulder realized without regret for the words unsaid. Somehow, he and Scully had always said more in the silence than in words. 

"Taxi, we need a taxi," Scully muttered as she scanned the still-busy street. As if by magic, a taxi appeared at the end of the street. Grabbing the opportunity, Mulder exuberantly flagged it down and ushered Scully into the back seat with a flourish. 

"To the nearest beach," Scully ordered in a slightly slurred tone. Mulder reassured the driver by offering him a twenty up front. How Scully had wrung the PIN number for the credit card out of Skinner was something he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He decided to worry about eventually accounting for this spree when they got back to D. C. Skinner had placed no limits, so Mulder would let him explain it to the accountants.

The pier was deserted when they arrived, except for a few lovers scattered in nooks and crannies. Walking carefully down to the beach, they shed their shoes and started walking along the edge of the water. The moonlight gave them just enough light to see their way.

"Do you ever wish we could just walk away?" Scully asked softly an hour later as they sat on some rocks to watch the retreating surf.

Mulder stared at her, sensing that she had something in mind, but content to let her approach it in her own way. They had spent much of the night without the necessity of words, but now maybe they had finally reached the point of needing to talk. This was a night apart from their normal lives so perhaps many of their defenses could be shed. Mulder was tired of wondering if she regretted staying with him on a endless, usually futile, search for the truth. He wondered if she had her own questions about him. He hoped the answers wouldn't shatter them both, but it was time for answers, for honesty.

"Where would we go, Scully?" he replied gently. Yeah, he'd often wished they could just go back to being Agents Mulder and Scully, investigators of the unusual, partners, and friends without any of the baggage those names had accumulated over the years.

"I'd just like to go somewhere where we could be ourselves, again," Scully said quietly. She smiled at Mulder briefly then went back to staring at the ocean.

"I thought that's what we were doing tonight?" Mulder asked with a chuckle as he recalled an old 60s song about going downtown to lose all your troubles. They had done that tonight, but their problems were as much about who they were as the fun they had had.

"We're free, Mulder. Why go back?" Scully sounded as if she was trying to find the words to express a vague longing she only now realized she had. Her voice was puzzled, but growing stronger as if a decision was welling up from inside her. Mulder braced himself. He could go on without her, but not with any great joy or excitement. 

"Duty. An obligation to find the truth?" Mulder suggested tentatively. He often wondered why he kept battering his head against the same brick wall. He'd never even considered the possibility of stopping.

"They have their plastic Mulder and Scully. We can walk off into the night right now and I doubt if they'd even miss us, Mulder." Scully didn't sound bitter, just awed as if she'd had some sort of revelation. 

Mulder tried to follow her line of reasoning. He couldn't always make the connections she did, but he could usually understand her logic. After a moment he saw where she was going.

"You think we could just disappear without somebody noticing?" he asked carefully, resisting the urge to turn around and check for hidden microphones or MIBs hiding in the shadows. 

"I don't think we're necessary any longer. We've been replaced by new, improved versions that won't ask embarrassing questions, won't kick up a fuss, and will perform exactly as expected. I'd rather leave while I'm still me. I saw a caricature of myself and I don't want to turn into that person," Scully said slowly. "Let's leave them to play with their imaginary Mulder and Scully."

"We'd notice, Scully," Mulder replied gently. The idea was tempting. They could send in their resignations with the Bureau credit card and simply walk away from the bureaucratic hassles, obstacles, and lies that constantly entangled them and distorted the truth they sought. Still, she had a point. They'd tried the official route for seven years and were no closer to the truth behind the conspiracy than before. He'd found his sister, but his search had grown into something so much more that he didn't know how to stop.

"I'm not saying give up, Mulder. I'm saying that maybe we can do more outside the FBI. We're too high profile. If they think we've given up, maybe we can start to follow real leads . . . maybe even find Bigfoot," she added with a sly grin. Mulder playfully growled at her, but considered what she was suggesting.

"I thought you didn't believe in aliens, Scully," Mulder said. Scully had been taken aback when his insistence on ferreting out the truth hadn't ended when he had discovered the truth about his sister. He knew she didn't entirely believe him when he’d told her about meeting Samantha in the starlight, but she had accepted that he believed it.

"You've always asked me to believe in extreme possibilities, Mulder. I may not always agree with you, but I've seen too much to deny the possibility. If you're willing to accept that there might be a rational, scientific answer, then I'm willing to believe in . . ., " she hesitated for a moment then continued with a reminiscent smile, "in little green men from outer space."

"A challenge?" Mulder asked with a boyish smile. Damn, Scully knew him too well. He was competitive by nature and the prospect of a challenge was hard to turn down.

"I dare you," Scully replied with a laugh that reminded Mulder of a very young agent who walked into his office seven years ago. Was it even possible for them to start over? 

"Let's sleep on it, Mulder." Scully grimaced at the mock leer Mulder produced. "In separate beds. Let's not complicate the decision," she added reprovingly, but barely suppressing a fond smile that suggested the offer was delayed, not out-right refused. Mulder's mind staggered under the possibilities inherent in that smile, but he managed to focus on the conversation before betraying the abrupt re-evaluation of possibilities running through his mind.

"You take all the fun out of deciding, Scully," Mulder complained, but nodded to show that he understood. "It's tempting, but we . . . I need to know if it's just the influence of the bright lights of make-believe land, or whether this is what we should do," he added seriously. Even as he spoke, he realized that he was leaning towards accepting the challenge. Skinner would understand, probably even approve. The Gunmen would be enthusiastic helpers and the contacts he'd created over the years wouldn't just disappear because he went private. The idea had possibilities, but it was a big risk. He wasn't afraid, just uncertain whether this was the right thing to do. He wanted to do it, but he knew that what he wanted wasn't always the right thing. 

"It's just one more extreme possibility, Mulder. We've done stranger things, but this time it would be our decision, not one made for us," Scully said as she stood up and extended her hand. Mulder took it and let her pull him to his feet. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe just the intoxicating freedom their night spent on the town had produced, but Mulder realized that the future had more possibilities than he had thought. He heard Scully softly humming "Downtown" as they walked back to the pier and smiled. Apparently he wasn't the only one who remembered that song. They had followed its advice and were now hovering on the edge of making a decision that would change their lives. Perhaps he should open an X-File on the strange influence neon lights, music, and crowds had on people. 

 

The End (or perhaps a new beginning)

**Author's Note:**

> Downtown (Tony Hatch)
> 
> When you're alone and life is making you lonely, you can always go - downtown.  
> When you've got worries, all the noise and the hurry seems to help, I know -- downtown.  
> Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city. Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty.  
> How can you lose?
> 
> the lights are much brighter there.  
> You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares.  
> So go downtown, things'll be great when you're downtown.  
> No finer place, for sure Downtown -- everything's waiting for you.
> 
> Don't hang around and let your problems surround you, there are movie shows - downtown.  
> Maybe you know some little places to go where they never close -- downtown.  
> Just listen to the rhythm of a gentle bossa nova.  
> You'll be dancing with him too before the night is over. Happy again.
> 
> The lights are much brighter there.  
> You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares.  
> So go downtown, where all the lights are bright.  
> Downtown -- waiting for you tonight.  
> Downtown -- you're gonna be all right now.
> 
> And you may find somebody kind to help and understand you.  
> Someone who is just like you and needs a gentle hand to guide them along.
> 
> So maybe I'll see you there.  
> We can forget all our troubles, forget all our cares.  
> So go downtown, things'll be great when you're downtown.  
> Don't wait a minute for Downtown -- everything's waiting for you.


End file.
